


Penicillin

by LetMeEntertainYou



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Allergic reaction, Allergies, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 14:39:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18853102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetMeEntertainYou/pseuds/LetMeEntertainYou
Summary: John struggled getting his wallet out, fingers shaking like leaves for no reason. After much struggle, he was able to hand the woman a few pounds but she retracted her hand the moment she caught a glimpse of him.“Oh my god! Somebody get the doctor!” she shrieked, which confused John.





	Penicillin

**Author's Note:**

> My blog is Disabled-Queen-HC on tumblr.  
> Anon asked: Hi, any thoughts about JD discovering he's severely allergic to penicillin? I did years ago by accident, waking up one morning looking like a strawberry and lips going blue wasn't fun :/

It was supposed to be a simple trip to the doctors. 

John was suffering from the nastiest case of strep throat, something probably picked up while on their european tour a few weeks ago. His throat was raw, his neck swollen and swallowing felt akin to torture. When a week passed with no improvement, he made his way to the GP.

John was a Big Boy, so he went alone, figuring he’d get a throat swab and some antibiotics to take home. No big deal. No need to worry people over that. Although, he began to doubt his decision when the doctor brought out a hefty looking needle. 

“You have no known allergies to medication, right?” the doctor said as he wiped alcohol onto his arm. John shook his head no, a little proud that he wasn’t allergic to a single thing. Never got hay fever even once. 

“Good,” the doctor mumbled before jabbing him in the arm with the needle.

_Ow._

John frowned when he felt the slight burning from the serum but he took it like a man none the less. 

One bandaid later and a script in hand for other medications, John was ready to leave. He thanked the doctor before scurrying off to the receptionist to pay. 

He felt kind of weird though as he walked, a tightness developing in his chest. Must be the penicillin fighting off the strep, right?

John struggled getting his wallet out, fingers shaking like leaves for no reason. After much struggle, he was able to hand the woman a few pounds but she retracted her hand the moment she caught a glimpse of him.

“Oh my god! Somebody get the doctor!” she shrieked, which confused John.

He felt really bad though. A unidentifiable itch was spreading throughout his body. A daze settling into his brain. He wanted to say something but only a wheeze came out. 

_I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe! I..can’t…._

♚

Clarity struck John like a whip, his eyes flashing open, his body lurching forward with a gasp.

What was happening to him? Was he dying? Was he still in the doctors office? Was he-

“Hey! Hey there. You’re awake. You’re fine, mate. Everything’s good,” a voice cooed. 

John blinked and then squinted. Everything was white and sterile and bright. He looked down and saw a scratchy blanket covering his lower half, the top half covered by a pale blue gown.  _The hospital_?

He looked at his arms, faint red splotches littering them. 

“They said you looked like a strawberry when you came in,” the voice said again. 

John looked up, his vision clearing. Roger was sitting on a chair, magazine opened up on his lap, a little smile on his face.

John had a lot of questions but the first thing that came tumbling out of his mouth was, “You’re not my emergency contact,”

Roger snorted, shrugging. “Weird,” he said.

Well, that going to be a conversation for later. He had other pressing matters.

“What the hell happened?” John asked, gesturing to himself, laid up in a hospital bed, unflattering gown on and IV in his wrist. 

Roger let out one of those laughs people did before they told an unbelievable story. “So about that, hah. Turns out, Mr. Deacon, you’re allergic to penicillin! You were paying your bill and you started to bloat like a balloon. Wheezing and breaking out into hives, all of it,” Roger said.

That explained the welts on his arms. John touched his face to feel if anything was still swollen.

“Don’t worry, you’re still very pretty,” Roger teased, tossing his magazine aside to stand next to the bed.

“But really, Deacy. You gave everyone a fright! The doc said he never seen anyone go down so quickly. But uh, you’re safe and sound now. They said you’ll be good to go tomorrow morning,” Roger said, fiddling with the IV pole, trying to hide that maybe he was a little nervous for the bassist. 

John was quiet for a while, digesting all of the news. It was all blurry for him. Anxiety might have blacked out most of the experience for him, which he was grateful for. Having to be conscious while one suffocated didn’t sound like a fun memory to have. 

His fingernails were lightly scraping down his arms, a barely there itch being scratched. He sighed before saying, “So I do have allergies after all,”

“I would say so,” Roger said, pointing to the hospital room, as if they needed proof. It made John laugh, shaking his head.

“Did you tell the others?” John asked, looking up at Roger who was still busying himself with absolutely nothing.

“Oh, yeah. Brian’s out of town, but Freddie is on his way. I think. He started screaming half way through the phone call. If you hear any ambulance sirens, I think that might just be Fred with his head out a car window,” Roger said, rubbing the back of his neck with a wry smile.

They both laughed, John only imagining the chaos Freddie would bring when he got here. Maybe with 30 bouquets and an obscenely large teddy bear. Note cards with a speech about medication safety too. He wished he could become unconscious again.

“Before Mother Hen arrives, I think I’ll go down to the cafeteria. You want anything?” Roger asked, padding slowly to the door.

“Uh, yeah. I want to know how in the bloody hell did you get on my contact list?” John called out, bouncing a little on the bed. Roger just hummed loudly as if to drown out the question before he left.


End file.
